


"That Old Feeling"

by Princess of Geeks (Princess)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, First Time, M/M, Romance, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-15
Updated: 2010-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that Jack has announced he's going to Washington, new things are possible, and great minds think alike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"That Old Feeling"

At home, after work, Daniel had waited and thought and waited and thought and finally climbed in his Honda and headed for Jack's house.

The late-afternoon meetings in the Gate room, first with just SG-1, and then with all of the staff in earshot of Jack's command-wide intercom announcement, had been anticlimactic for Daniel. Because his gossip network in D.C. had gotten quite extensive, over the years. And his ability to read Jack, even from a distance, even when he wasn't saying anything out loud, had remained excellent.

So the news of Jack's promotion to the Pentagon was actually news, but not as much of a surprise to Daniel as one would think.

_"The good news, also, is that, I get to choose my successor, and I should have that name for you in a few days.... Thanks, everyone. Dismissed."_

For the all-staff meeting, there had been no podium, no ceremony, no dress uniforms. Just Jack, talking to his people, face to face, the way he always preferred.

Driving through the dark, now, remembering the way Jack had stood there on the ramp, hands behind his back, careful and polite, changing all their lives beyond recognition, Daniel felt a lump coming up in his throat. He squeezed the steering wheel a little harder and concentrated on the street. Then he frowned. The truck that had just passed him was the twin of Jack's new cobalt blue F150. And inside its cab, a flash of light on silver hair, the kind of light a flip-phone makes when it's opened.... Impossible.

Daniel's cell phone rang.

"Was that you?" Jack demanded, chagrined and on the way to embarrassed. Daniel smiled, and a thrill ran down his spine.

"Crossing Cascade -- was that you?"

"Son of a bitch."

"My place or yours?" Daniel put some flirt in his voice. It could be a joke, later, if he needed it to be. But he didn't think he needed it to be. He could hear Jack thinking.

"Mine," Jack said, and Daniel hit the button to break the connection, and kept driving. He didn't know, with an excited kind of uncertainty, if the vote was Jack's place because Jack knew for sure his own house was swept for bugs but if they had the ... conversation ... Daniel was anticipating, they'd have to take the time to sweep Daniel's, or because Jack would have breakfast food and Daniel might have a stale grainola bar and a Starbuck's punch card.

He pulled up in front of Jack's house, and waited. Soon the Ford pulled up, swung into the drive, and eased into the garage with inches to spare under the lip of the big door as it laboriously trundled open. Daniel thought about it, and then put the car back in gear and headed into the driveway to park in front of the open door, behind the truck. As if this was any other night. As if he didn't have to worry about who would see his car there, who would wonder, or draw conclusions damaging to Jack.

He killed the engine and clutched his keys and his phone. He walked into the garage, and Jack was waiting for him, still in the Ford, watching in the mirror. Once Daniel was in, Jack hit the door remote clipped to his sun visor. Daniel paused at the corner of the truck bed, resting a hand on the gleaming metal, watching Jack get out of the cab in the artificial glare of the garage light. Jack didn't look back at him, just shut the door of the Ford firmly and headed for the kitchen door, where he stood, just inside, holding the door for Daniel. As he passed, Daniel dropped his gaze, and he heard Jack close the door with an emphatic thunk as Daniel dropped his keys and his phone on the seldom-used kitchen table. He took his coat off and hung it on a chair, and walked on through to pause in front of the refrigerator.

"I think a beer would be in order," Jack said quietly, behind him. "Unless this is a conversation that needs Scotch."

"I could...." Daniel began, but he stopped talking in favor of opening the refrigerator. It was Heineken tonight; tolerable if not his favorite. He pulled out two of the dark green short-necks and turned to put them on the bar counter. Jack was right there, practically in his space, and Jack stepped back, perhaps a little more quickly than necessary. Daniel didn't meet his eyes yet. He methodically twisted the caps of both beers and then took a swallow from one. He watched Jack's hand slowly close around the second beer and lift it out of sight. Jack was wearing the shorter of his two leather jackets, and jeans, and a dark sweater.

Daniel caught his breath, ready to speak, to explain.

"It's like this," Jack said, careful and patient, just like at the mountain, earlier today. Daniel closed his eyes and took another pull of the cold thin beer instead of speaking, and listened to Jack's tentative voice. "I was coming to your place to ask you... something. Since I'm going to Washington, and since I'm not going to be your CO anymore. Not in the direct chain of command, you know?"

"And I was coming here to your place to ask you the same thing," Daniel said, and marveled that his voice was steady. More beer. Definitely. He drank.

"Go figure," Jack said, and was his voice shaky? He stepped closer. Daniel was still looking at approximately his navel, or anyway at the gap in his jacket, and the dark blue cotton of his sweater, over his stomach.

"Daniel," Jack said, and Daniel raised his eyes. Jack was standing there, one hand around the beer, which was seated on the bar, and one hand slowly, slowly reaching. Daniel raised his chin, and set his own beer on the bar.

"Yes," he said, not flirting, not joking, not careful to hide the want and the need and the desire. Jack's hand kept moving, fingertips connecting softly with Daniel's jaw, and slid around to grip his nape. Daniel closed his eyes and reached out blindly. Caught shoulder, held. Leather, and under it, cotton. Muscle. Bone. Warmth.

"Because," Jack was saying, "if I'm not your CO, it doesn't mean there aren't...."

"Issues," Daniel said into the thick air between Jack's mouth and his.

"But maybe there are... not... quite ..."

"So many."

It was odd, to think how they could kiss and talk, how their mouths could cling and part and cling and part and lick and touch, tentative and warm, how their foreheads could rest together, how they could then kiss again, soft and lingering and wet, with only that fragmented, telepathic couple of sentences as a preamble. Odd, but not surprising.

Daniel had a handful of leather over Jack's left shoulder, and his other hand had found skin under the back of Jack's coat and Jack's sweater. For his part, Jack was cupping Daniel's face with one hand, still gripping neck with the other. They kissed, eyes closed, intent, breathing hard. Daniel could taste that Jack had brushed his teeth. That made Daniel smile into the kissing.

Daniel's hand on Jack's spine brought them together -- chest and stomach and groin.

Jack breathed, "So that's a yes."

"Oh hell yes," Daniel said, against Jack's mouth. "You really have to ask?"

"Always good to be clear. To make sure."

"Let's go back to your bedroom. And I'll show you sure."

Jack chuckled, warm and low. "Counting on that."

Daniel dared to open his eyes, then, and Jack was looking right at him, and Daniel drowned, as he knew he would, in the warmth and depth of those brown eyes. It was hard to tear himself away, but he stepped back and turned, remembering where he was, remembering how to get step by careful step to the bedroom. Jack's hand was on his lower back the whole time; guiding, caressing.

Daniel started to say some platitude about how it was getting warm in here, and realized he didn't want to do that; to resort to platitudes, and realized that meant despite his quip about showing Jack how sure he was, he was nervous. Then they were in the bedroom. Daniel realized he had blinked out, conscious not of walking but of the touch of Jack's hand on his back and buttocks. So much to process -- the reality of this, the immensity of this change. He and Jack stopped together, and faced each other, standing beside the bed. There was a lamp on already, a soft yellowish light. Jack shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the chair by the door. Daniel's fingers fumbled at his buttons, but he was, again, not paying attention to what he was doing. He was watching Jack. Jack reached behind his own shoulder and grabbed the scruff of his sweater, only breaking eye contact with Daniel while his sweater and undershirt were coming over his head. He tossed them away and stepped closer. Daniel watched his chest rise and fall in a big, calming breath, and then Jack went to work on Daniel's buttons, looking at his own hands, frowning a little. When the buttons were all undone, Jack slid warm hands under the shirt fronts, and Daniel shivered at the simple newness of the touch. He staggered a little, moaning in spite of himself, and his eyes fell closed, because Jack had stepped even closer and bent to press his lips against Daniel's collarbone.

His head was falling back, he was moaning and clutching at Jack's warm skin, and he smiled at the picture he must make, melting like a bride at the skim of Jack's lips against his skin. It was an intense rush of warmth, an abrupt and dizzying climb to full arousal. He found some control again, and tilted his head forward to nuzzle Jack's ear, and he felt Jack smile against the tender skin of his neck. Jack was petting down his back, light attentive strokes, as if feeling every separate inch that his palms and fingers were passing over.

"This is kinda hard to believe," Jack said, mouth still against skin.

"I know. I guess when I thought about this I thought we'd have to talk more. Before we, you know, did anything about it." Daniel had gotten his hands between them and was unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. Jack was finishing a sweep down his spine, and his hands failed to meet the waistband of denim and instead swept along the curve of Daniel's buttocks, along bare skin.

"God," he said, and his head came up. Daniel's dick was already knocking against Jack's thigh.

"Not too fast?" Daniel said, hoping it wasn't, hoping Jack hadn't failed to think this through, that he wasn't, perhaps, interested in intimacy with another man only as a theoretical project that now would crash under the weight of reality. He pressed his cheekbone against Jack's and held onto his shoulder with one hand, easing his weight aside, ready to make a disappointed grab for his jeans if necessary.

"No, god, no. Just..." Jack stepped back and quickly shoved off his own jeans and kicked them away. He grabbed Daniel's hand and tugged him down, close to his side on the bed, fast and graceful, as always.

They lay there, naked, their legs a little tangled. Daniel felt breathless and warm. Jack looked stunned. He put a hand on Daniel's ribs, moved it to cover a nipple. Then he looked up again and met Daniel's eyes.

"You've still got your glasses on," Jack said, and now he was grinning. Daniel grinned back, and sat up and put them on the nightstand. He turned, and there was Jack, spread out, on the bedspread. Jack. Without clothes. In bed. He shook his head. Unbelievable.

He smoothed his fingers along Jack's ribs, down along the shallow depression in the outside of his hip, and across, slowly, checking Jack's face, until he was cupping the base of Jack's quickly hardening dick. Such soft skin, such warmth.

"I guess you know," Daniel said, closing his eyes again, all his focus on the skin under his fingers, "how much I've wanted this. How long I've wanted this."

"I hoped. I ... _guh,_" Jack said, or something much like it, because Daniel had curled his hand around the shaft and started a slow, smooth pull. "Get over here, down here," Jack said hoarsely, clawing gently at Daniel's leg.

"Not yet," Daniel said, distracted and focused. "Unless you don't want me to..." He couldn't finish the sentence, because he was bending, yearning to taste what he was touching, mouth already opening in anticipation.

Jack's answer was more moaning, as Daniel shifted and pressed his lower body against Jack's torso and urged and pushed until Jack had turned half onto his side and made a pillow of his thigh for Daniel's head.

Daniel didn't want it to be too fast, hoped it wouldn't be too fast, but he was suddenly greedy with a hunger-like desire to have Jack in his mouth, to mold his mouth around that hard flesh, to suck.

So he did -- eyes closed, the air of the room cool on his back, Jack's skin like a furnace against his.

Jack kept moaning and holding him tight. Daniel got a little lost in the rhythm he set up, and he was glad, so glad, to do this for Jack, and to get to do this, to touch Jack this way, to have him this way, finally, finally. It was better than any fantasy he'd ever indulged in. He'd have to remember to tell Jack that, if Jack would want to know. He hoped Jack would want to know.

Thick, and hard, and filling his mouth, and the skin was almost sweet, a little bitter only at the tip, and then the first welling of pre-ejaculate, and Daniel moaned, too, and sucked harder.

"_Daniel,_" Jack was saying, urgent and choked. "Daniel, you don't... I'm gonna...." He moved his hands to stroke Daniel's head.

Daniel opened his eyes and slowed down, easing up on his sucking. _Yes, very very greedy. _

"Christ," Jack said, and the petting he was doing of Daniel's hair got more organized. Daniel pulled away slowly, and kissed the wet tip. He scrunched his fingers into the wiry hair, and with his other hand cupped Jack's balls. Jack groaned again and opened his legs a little more.

"I'm being so greedy. God. You taste.... I wanted this so much. I used to dream about this."

"I know. I know."

Daniel shut his eyes and put his face in the warm hollow of Jack's hip, next to his dick. "We can.... God, I don't know what to do. I don't know whether to talk or not talk, to offer things, to just do them, to tell you I love you, to save that for later, to pretend I didn't just say it just now, to talk about Washington or never talk or just... God, Jack...."

"Hey," Jack said, and Daniel felt him sitting up, getting his legs under him while never losing contact with Daniel's skin. He pulled on Daniel's shoulder, and Daniel sat, too, and shivered. Jack moved, a firm shove at Daniel's leg, a strong arm against his ribs, and they were sitting, wrapped astonishingly, erotically close. Jack had gotten himself between Daniel's legs, slung his own legs over Daniel's and then around to press his heels against Daniel's ass, and Daniel was once again looking into dark smoldering eyes and tasting Jack's breath.

Jack held him close and kissed him, pushing in insistently with his tongue, as if to taste himself inside Daniel's mouth. Daniel groaned, and grabbed hard at Jack's upper arms. The heavy press of Jack's legs over his own, the weight and warmth and strength of him, so close, so real. His own dick jerked, straining the skin. He wanted to touch. He ran a palm along the sparse unforgiving hair on Jack's leg, and then gathered up both erections, making Jack gasp.

Daniel used the pause to speak. "Like this? Is it all right like this?"

"Anything. Any way. You're driving this train, you know."

"No, I didn't know.... Oh, god, Jack."

Jack didn't answer, just panted and held on tight, as if bracing against Daniel's strokes. Daniel was close to orgasm very soon; the anticipation having built exponentially for him when he'd had Jack in his mouth.

Jack didn't try to talk any more, but when Jack was about to come, he dragged his hands up Daniel's back and neck, and cupped his jaw and kissed him, pushing deep. Daniel felt him seize, felt his dick swell, felt all his muscles tense. He groaned into Daniel's mouth and started pulsing, hot and sudden, and feeling Jack climax against his dick, into his hand, sent Daniel over the edge, too. Jack hung on to his face, their mouths sealed together, and they both came, and came and came.

Then the collapse, against each others' shoulders, heads resting, breaths coming fast. Daniel wiped his hand on the bed and rested it on the back of Jack's neck.

In a moment Jack tightened the hug, legs and arms, and then relaxed again, boneless, into the new, even more closely wrapped position.

Daniel, nerves and arousal and emotion on a long ebb tide of endorphins, was close to dozing off when Jack, without shifting, spoke again.

"I don't think I'm gonna know how to do this, exactly."

Daniel drew a thoughtful breath. His left foot was going to sleep, but he didn't want to move. "Is that a warning, or an apology, or what?"

"Statement of fact, more than anything. In some ways I'm out of practice, here, and in some ways I'm totally in over my head."

"Why should now be any different?" Daniel said, and grinned when Jack pinched his butt.

"Ow," he pretended to complain, and nipped at Jack's neck. He was gratified when Jack said, "Wow," and leaned his head over to make more room. Daniel nibbled his way up the proffered skin until he could kiss Jack again. This time he pushed assertively in, and felt a new and futile spangle of arousal down his spine and the backs of his legs when Jack opened for him and made a purring noise. They kissed some more, Daniel exploring, tasting. Daniel held on to Jack's head, cradling it as carefully as any of his other priceless artifacts.

Daniel eventually released his mouth and leaned back, wanting to see Jack's face. He looked sated and stunned, his hair ruffled, his lips wet. He opened his eyes and Daniel melted all over again at the emotion he saw in them.

"Whoa," Jack said, and raised a hand and scrubbed his hair. Once again bringing Daniel with him, he leaned back and lay down. It was easier than it looked to untangle their legs. Daniel came to rest with his head on Jack's chest, his soft dick pressed against Jack's leg. He bent his, sliding it across Jack's legs and hooking his heel under the soft part of Jack's calf.

Jack's heart was strong and slow and steady under his ear. Patient. Comforting.

"I mean men. Over my head with trying this with men. I never.... After Sarah..."

Daniel tapped his chest gently, saying "Enough, it's okay, I get it," without words, and Jack understood. He blew out a breath and quit trying to explain. Daniel listened to his heart beat for a while. Then Jack said, with none of the struggling quality of his previous sentence: "I really hadn't thought much beyond talking to you, trying to get this ... whatever it is ... out in the open, after all this time."

Daniel smoothed his fingers, back and forth, instead of tapping. "I hadn't either.... But, I don't think we have to figure everything out tonight, do we?"

"And here I thought you'd be pushing for some kind of grand master plan."

"That's me. Pushy."

"It's always been one of your best things."

"You say that _now_...."

Jack chuckled, and then a comfortable silence fell. Daniel was aware of an intense and unbelievable bliss, of a different quality than he ever remembered feeling before. It was both peaceful and overwhelming. Familiar and surprising. He drifted in the bliss for a while, and then he frowned.

"So, you were heading to my place to ask me _something_ about this _whatever it is_."

"Yup. That's about the size of it."

"_Whatever._ I like the sound of that."

" 'Excuse me, General Hammond, I have to go back to Colorado this weekend, to see a man about a _whatever._' "

"Jack, I think you're onto _something_ here."

Jack's answering laughter was as comforting as his hands had been earlier. The last thing Daniel remembered, before falling asleep, was the feel of Jack's skin under his smile.

^^^^

_"Once again I seemed to feel  
That old yearning  
And I knew the spark of love  
Was still burning_

There'll be no new romance for me  
It's foolish to start  
While that old, old feeling  
Is still in my heart"

(Lew Brown and Sammy Fain)


End file.
